You Won't See Me Fall Apart Novels & Stories

You have given me something that I can't live without. You mustn't underestimate that when you are in doubt. But I don't want to carry on like everything is fine. The longer we ignore it, the more we will fight. Please don't fall apart. I can't face your breaking heart. I'm trying to be brave. Stop asking me to stay.

Finally, I spoke, barely above a whisper, "What if... what if I’m just too scared to try again? What if everything falls apart like it did before?" Sevi’s face softened, and he reached out, his hand brushing against mine. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through me, but it wasn’t discomfort—it was a reminder of how much more this meant than I was willing to admit. "Then we fall apart, and we pick up the pieces. Together."

All these years, I’ve been built for this. I laugh again. I’m sure I look like a crazy person right now. But I don’t care, because this is it. This is the moment I realize how strong I am. I will not break. I am not fragile anymore. I haven’t been in a long time. Nothing will take me down now. I can take whatever they throw at me. They have no idea what they’ve created. Let them whip me, punish me, hurt me, try to make a fool of me. Will. Not. Break.

“Start small. Shower. Eat something. Scream into a pillow.” I huffed a tired laugh. “Tempting.” “Or just sit here. Hold that blanket. Cry if you need to.” “I feel ridiculous.” “You’re not. You’re grieving a connection no one else can see. Doesn’t make it less real.” “I thought I could do this without falling apart.” “No one does anything that brave without falling a little.” I rested my head on her shoulder. “You’re not going to leave, are you?” “Not a chance.”

My deskmate, Elaine Jenkins, was the kind of girl who was born with a sharp tongue. She loved nothing more than embarrassing me in front of everyone. When I showed up in a brand-new white shirt, she sneered, "Look at the country boy who finally made it to the city. Are you really that worried people will not realize how hopelessly tacky your taste is?" When I switched to contact lenses, she laughed. "Those eyes look like a dead fish's. Taking off your glasses is not going to magically turn you into a handsome guy." Then I won a prize in the math competition. She just rolled her eyes and said, "Please. Everyone knows he stays up all night grinding through problem sets. He practically worke

Without another word, she turned and walked away. She didn’t know where she was going, but anywhere was better than there. Her gaze stayed fixed on the ground, her vision blurring as tears threatened to spill. She picked up her pace, shame chasing her steps. The stairs came up too fast. Her left heel slipped off mid-step, and the world tilted. Before she could catch herself, she fell hard onto the stairs, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs. She panted, hands pressed against the cold stone, tears finally pooling in her eyes.

I could almost hear the words Take me, take me, take me, repeating in my head. “So, what will it be? Will you stop trying to act like you don't want this, or will you let your desires take the lead?"

I voiced out. "And whose fault was that?" she said glaring at me. Your psychotic mind, I mumbled beneath my breath, just then she decided to drop one of her crutches, she tried to make it look like an accident but failed miserably. She's going to be the death of me, mumbled before adding a string of curse words to the statement. I hurried over to her and supported her falling figure by putting my hand around her waist leading her to the nearest table. I ignore how right it felt to place my hand around her waist or how she seemed to fit perfectly in my arms every time I carry her. I went to pick up the fallen crutch and made my way back to her.

Am a 29 old divorcée with little dating experience, no kids, the thought of loving someone else scares me to death, life without Zach is meaningless. Mom whispered several words of consolation to me as she slowly led me to my room.

I overthink things a lot. I am at the cafeteria, having my lunch. I am all alone. I think it is much better than having a lot of friends, whom I am not aware of, stabbing me behind my back. “Hi!” I heard someone say. It’s a girl. And she’s pretty. She looks like Aphrodite. I mean, her beauty is like Aphrodite. She sat on the chair in front of me. Now we’re facing each other. She’s all alone. I look at behind her to see if she has someone with her or if maybe she has a group of friends that told her to come and sit with me here. Maybe they are having a bet or a dare.